Brontës (75 page)

This time, he faced a united front of opposition. To impose the rate demanded would have placed a tax of almost a pound on every cottage and farm in the township at a time when the poor rate in Haworth was being levied at seven or eight shillings in the pound and many families were still totally dependent on charitable relief. Patrick ran through the formality of chairing a church rate meeting, but he made his own views very obvious from the outset. The meeting was not to make or lay a rate, he declared, but
‘to consider a demand' by the churchwardens of Bradford. ‘To bring the business into a moveable position' he urged John Brown and John Dean, sexton and constable of the chapelry, formally to propose the rate and then gave John Winterbotham the floor. His motion that no church rate for the parish of Bradford be granted was carried, Patrick gave his thanks and ‘the meeting separated with good temper and cordiality'.
²⁹

After this excitement, the general election of July 1841 was something of an anticlimax. Haworth was favoured with visits from both sets of candidates. The Liberals, Lords Morpeth and Milton, arrived in pouring rain and found little enthusiasm despite the fact that their mill-owning supporters had forced their workmen to wear yellow cards in their hats and form a token crowd of welcome. The Blues, Mr Wortley and Mr Denison, fared a little better. The Liberal ‘rent-a-mob' turned out again and tried to drown their speeches from the hustings, but they were countered by a growing band of Chartists, who sided with the Tories in their attacks on the new Poor Law. There was the usual near-riot and much bad feeling, though neither side seems to have emerged with much credit.
³⁰

Emily, totally absorbed in her imaginary world as usual, appears to have let all the excitements in Haworth wash over her. On 30 July, her twenty-third birthday, she wrote a diary paper, prefixing it with two tiny ink sketches of herself writing by the fire and standing looking out of the window.

A Paper to be opened

when Anne is

25 years old

or my next birthday after –

if

– all be well –

Emily Jane Brontë July the 30th 1841.

It is Friday evening – near 9 o'clock – wild rainy weather I am seated in the dining room \alone/ having just concluded tidying our desk-boxes – writing this document – Papa is in the parlour. Aunt upstairs in her room – she has been reading Blackwood's Magazine to papa – Victoria and Adelaide are ensconced in the peat-house – Keeper is in the Kitchen – Nero in his cage – We are all stout and hearty as I hope is the case with Charlotte, Branwell, and Anne,
of whom the first is at Mr White Esqre upperwood House Rawden The second is at Luddenden foot and the third is I beleive at Scarborough – enditing perhaps a paper corresponding to this –

A Scheme is at present in agitation for setting us up in a school of our own as yet nothing is determined but I hope and trust it may go on and prosper and answer our highest expectations – this day 4 – years I wonder whether we shall still be dragging on in our present condition or established to our hearts' content Time will show –

I guess that at the time appointed for the opening of this paper – we (ie) Charlotte, Anne and I – shall be all merrily seated in our own sitting-room in some pleasant and flourishing seminary having just gathered in for the midsummer holydays our debts will be paid off and we shall have cash in hand to a considerable amount. papa Aunt and Branwell will either have been – or be coming – to visit us – it will be a fine warm summer evening very different from this bleak look-out [and] Anne and I will perchance slip out into the garden [for a] few minutes to peruse our papers. I hope either this [or] some thing better will be the case –

The Gondalians are at present in a threatening state but there is no open rupture as yet – all the princes and princesses of the [Royal?] royalty are at the palace of Instruction – I have a good many books on hand – but I am sorry to say that as usual I make small progress with any – however I have just made a new regularity paper! and I mean – verb sap – to do great things – and now I close sending from far an ex[portation] of courage courage! to exiled and harassed Anne wishing she was here.
³¹

In sharp contrast to Emily's obvious contentment in her life at home and her good-humoured optimism about the future, Anne's diary paper is a sad little catalogue of past failures and pessimism. She had had an all too brief holiday of three weeks in June, which she had spent quietly at home with Emily, her father and Aunt Branwell. Just before Charlotte's return, she had joined the Robinsons for their annual holiday in the prestigious Wood's Lodgings at Scarborough.. The house, part of a splendid Georgian terrace, occupied a prime site on the cliff top overlooking the wide sandy beaches of South Bay, with views across to the castle on the headland. No. 2, The Cliff consisted of a drawing room, a dining room, eight bedrooms, a housekeeper's room and a kitchen, so it was large enough for the Robinsons to share with Mr Robinson's mother and sister.
³²
It was here that Anne wrote her diary paper.

July the 30th, A.D. 1841.

This is Emily's birthday. She has now completed her 23rd year, and is, I believe, at home. Charlotte is a governess in the family of Mr White. Branwell is a clerk in the railroad station at Luddenden Foot, and I am a governess in the family of Mr Robinson. I dislike the situation and wish to change it for another. I am now at Scarborough. My pupils are gone to bed and I am hastening to finish this before I follow them.

We are thinking of setting up a school of our own, but nothing definite is settled about it yet, and we do not know whether we shall be able to or not. I hope we shall. And I wonder what will be our condition and how or where we shall all be on this day four years hence; at which time, if all be well, I shall be 25 years and 6 months old, Emily will be 27 years old, Branwell 28 years and 1 month, and Charlotte 29 years and a quarter. We are now all separate and not likely to meet again for many a weary week, but we are none of us ill that I know of and all are doing something for our own livelihood except Emily, who, however, is as busy as any of us, and in reality earns her food and raiment as much as we do.

How little know we what we are

How less what we may be!

Four years ago I was at school. Since then I have been a governess at Blake Hall, left it, come to Thorp Green, and seen the sea and York Minster. Emily has been a teacher at Miss Patchet's school, and left it. Charlotte has left Miss Wooler's, been a governess at Mrs Sidgwick's, left her, and gone to Mrs White's. Branwell has given up painting, been a tutor in Cumberland, left it, and became a clerk on the railroad. Tabby has left us, Martha Brown has come in her place. We have got Keeper, got a sweet little cat and lost it, and also got a hawk. Got a wild goose which has flown away, and three tame ones, one of which has been killed. All these diversities, with many others, are things we did not expect or foresee in the July of 1837. What will the next four years bring forth? Providence only knows. But we ourselves have sustained very little alteration since that time. I have the same faults that I had then, only I have more wisdom and experience, and a little more self-possession than I then enjoyed. How will it be when we open this paper and the one Emily has written? I wonder whether the Gondalians will still be flourishing, and what will be their condition. I am now engaged in writing the fourth volume of Solala Vernon's Life.

For some time I have looked upon 25 as a sort of era in my existence. It may
prove a true presentiment, or it may be only a superstitious fancy; the latter seems most likely, but time will show.

Anne Brontë.
³³

The only prospect which seemed to offer Anne any escape was the school scheme. The idea of setting up their own school had been floating in the air for some time now, but over the summer, when first Anne and then Charlotte was at home to discuss the idea with the family, a definite plan had begun to emerge. Writing to Ellen on 19 July, Charlotte told her

there is a project hatching in this house – which both Emily and I anxiously wished to discuss with you – The project is yet in its infancy – hardly peeping from its shell – and whether it will ever come out – a fine, full-fledged chicken – or will turn addle and die before it cheeps, is one of those considerations that are but dimly revealed by the oracles of futurity Now dear Nell don't be nonplussed by all this metaphorical mystery … To come to the point – Papa and Aunt talk by fits & starts of our – id est – Emily Anne & myself commencing a School –! I have often you know said how much I wished such a thing – but I never could conceive where the capital was to come from for making such a speculation – I was well aware indeed, that Aunt
had
money – but I always considered that she was the last person who would offer a loan for the purpose in question – A loan however she
has
offered or rather intimates that she perhaps
will
offer in case pupils can be secured, – an eligible situation obtained &c &c..
³⁴

Charlotte's response to Aunt Branwell's generous offer was not one of unmitigated delight. She did not think her aunt would be willing to risk more than £150 on the venture – ‘& would it be possible to establish a
respectable
(not by any means a
shewy
) school – and to commence housekeeping with a capital of
only
that amount?' Ellen was commissioned to seek the opinion of her elder sister, Ann, on whether the finances were viable as the Brontës had no wish to get into debt. ‘We do not care how modest – how humble our commencement be so it be made on sure grounds & have a safe foundation', she told Ellen, adding almost as an afterthought, ‘Can events be so turned so that you shall be included as an associate in our projects? This is a question I have not at present the means to answer –'.
³⁵

Unable, even now, to leave William Weightman out of her letters, she concluded her important news about the school scheme with a spiteful account of his latest doings.

I must not conclude this note without even mentioning the name of our revered friend William Weightman – He is quite as bonny pleasant – light hearted – good-tempered – generous, careless, crafty, fickle & unclerical as ever he keeps up his correspondence with Agnes Walton – During the last Spring he went to Appleby & stayed upwards of a month – in the interim he wrote to Papa several times & from his letters – which I have seen – he appears to have a fixed design of obtaining Miss Walton's hand & if she can be won by a handsome face – by a cheerful & frank disposition & highly cultivated talents – if she can be satisfied with these things & will not expect further the pride of a sensitive mind & the delicacy of a feeling one – in this case he will doubtless prove successful –
³⁶

The curate had now become a side issue, however, as Charlotte bent all her energies to achieving the dream of a school of her own. There is no doubt that she was the driving force, though Emily and Anne were willing partners. It was Charlotte who made the plans and conducted the negotiations, while her sisters simply acquiesced in her arrangements. At first she considered siting the school at Bridlington: her own memories of the place were pleasant and, more importantly, she thought that only one other school had been established there.
³⁷
Two months later, an unexpected proposal from Miss Wooler forced a change of plan. Her sister had given up the school at Dewsbury Moor and Miss Wooler suggested that Charlotte should take it over and attempt to revive its flagging fortunes. In return for her own board, Miss Wooler offered Charlotte the use of her furniture, which would be a considerable saving in the initial outlay. This offer had much to recommend it. They would be taking over an established school, with a good reputation in an area where they themselves were widely known. But by the time Charlotte had organized a loan of £100 from Aunt Branwell, her own enthusiasm for the scheme had dwindled away to nothing. In its place ‘a fire was kindled in my very heart which I could not quench'.
³⁸

The fire had been kindled by Mary Taylor who, instead of emigrating to New Zealand, had gone on a continental tour with her brother, John, and had written to tell Charlotte of her experiences.

Mary's letter spoke of some of the pictures & cathedrals she had seen – pictures the most exquisite – & cathedrals the most venerable – I hardly know what swelled to my throat as I read her letter – such a vehement impatience of restraint & steady work. such a strong wish for wings – wings such as wealth can
furnish – such an urgent thirst to see – to know – to learn – something internal seemed to expand boldly for a minute – I was tantalized with the consciousness of faculties unexercised – then all collapsed and I despaired
³⁹

Charlotte had always been the one with a taste for the exotic. Where Mary's plans for emigration had simply left her cold, the possibility of following her and Martha to Brussels set her imagination alight and she could not let the idea drop. Mary and the Whites, no doubt prompted by Charlotte when she discussed the matter with them, all supported her proposal that she ought to spend some time in a Brussels school. Hiding behind their ‘advice', Charlotte took the bull by the horns and wrote to Aunt Branwell.

My friends recommend me, if I desire to secure permanent success, to delay commencing the school for six months longer, and by all means to contrive, by hook or by crook, to spend the intervening time in some school on the Continent. They say schools in England are so numerous, competition so great, that without some such step towards attaining superiority we shall probably have a very hard struggle, and may fail in the end.